


Where the Ashes Fall

by Ex_Cathedra



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Character Death, Fluff, Gen, and it be mighty, im here to stab you all in the heart, thanos got uno reverse carded, this fic supplies the angst, ＼(◎-◎)／
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 00:50:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19284709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ex_Cathedra/pseuds/Ex_Cathedra
Summary: The empty feeling of an impending threat never left after the battle.  And Steve would soon learn why, when he stumbled upon a stray katana, snapped in half, and a pool of blood not far away.  Turns out the universe thought they hadn't lost enough, and Tony wasn't the only sacrifice.





	Where the Ashes Fall

Sweat and blood still dripped freely off of the fallen mans face. Half of which had burned away, flesh melting from bone. His eyes stared ahead, void of the life that had once thrived there. Despite the pain, there was still a small smile gracing his bloodied lips. An expression Steve wished he could have seen while he was alive. It was small, but it meant the world to him. Tony's typical grin resonated spite and an underlying sense of unrivaled anger.

The battle had been brutal, Thanos’s forces being stronger in number, but not in heart. They were mindless minions, they had no real goal. Thanos held the goal, they just followed orders.

The Avengers and their allys had a very clear mission. They had collective goal, and a very valid reason to keep fighting.

The fighting had felt disorganized. Which, he supposed, he should be used to. You can't exactly organize a high stakes fight when it already begun.

He was hopeless in the beginning. Him versus the mad titan and his army. When he heard Sam in his earpiece, and when he was T’Challa walk through that portal with Okoye and Shuri, and when more portals open and more step through….he felt nothing short of hopeful. They had a very real chance at winning. He knew it. Thanos knew it.

They might have won. But they still list a great many more. He heard pained screams as people from all over, fall. Thanos and his forces fell, but you couldn't see their bodies. Not when they were reduced to ash.

He watched silently as Pepper, Rhodey, and Peter stood silent by Tonys body. They looked distraught, broken. But there was nothing they could do.

Steve turned away. Walking past Bruce and Thor in the opposite direction.

Blood soaked dirt caked his boots, small tears covered his entire suit, and blood dripped out of wounds slowly.

Mud slushed around his feet as he made it through the carnage. He was trying to get back to the reckage of the base. He had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he was missing something. There was a piece missing. He partially blamed grief, he had just lost his closest friend after all. But he could seperate that feeling from this, he knew in his heart this was different.

He's felt this before. Back during the war. The feeling of impending doom hovering over you like a flock of vultures circling a kill. There hasn't been an instance like this where he hasn't been able to push through it. No matter how difficult the process was, he could manage.

The pit in his stomach only grew as he kept walking. He continued to step over bodies of fallen warriors. Some from Wakanda, some from Asgard, some he couldn't recognize feom anywhere. Blood was pooled everywhere. Weapons discarded without a second thought.

Something in particular caught his attention however, rather quickly as well.

His eyes flew down when his boot made contact with something on the ground. It took several long moments for it to register in his head. Black, gold, and dull metal. A katana, shattered into several pieces. This was the hilt.

His heart spead up and his thoughts were racing. He recognized that sword. He saw back before the time heist. Before Natasha had sacrificed herself. When she had returned from Tokyo. With a man so disheveled and broken he was unrecognizable to the man Steve had seen almost six years prior. Back in Germany. Back when he saved his group of friends from the raft.

Ronin. Hawkeye. Clint.

His eyes darted around frantically. Searching for any trace of the man he considered a brother. The smoke had made everything dull and black. Nothing stood out.

Until a flicker of gold caught his attention.

His head wizzed up as his eyes slowly began to focus. The figure was laying against a heavy piece of rubbel. His hand lay limp, a second sword laying, also broken, a few feet away. It was alarming, but that wasn't what scared him the most.

He was too busy staring at the spear impaling his stomach, pinning him to the ground.

“Clint!”. He sprinted over, almost falling over himself and several bodies. Skidding to a stop infront of his comrade.

“Clint, hey! Wake up, come on Barton!” He cupped his face , lightly tapping his cheeks to get his attention. Clints chest was barely rising, and his breathing was wheazy and wet. Blood slipping out of his parted mouth as he coughed and hacked.

‘Hes not going to make it’ was the resounding phrase going through his mind.

Tears threatened to mix with sweat and burning skin.

“Come on bud, we've already lost Nat and Tony, we can't loose you too”. Steve lowered a hand to tightly grasp one of Clint's. “Come on, you gotta stay with me pal, don't let them win, you gotta beat them.”

Clints eyes were bleary, and it appeared he couldn't focus on anything. His head turned weakly, and Steve gently took his face in his free hand, and turned his head so Clint would look at him. Steve could only manage a weak smile. He wasn't prepared to loose Clint too.

His head flew around as he heard footsteps rushing behind him. It was Bruce, T’Challa, and Danvers. Bruce was wide eyed when he saw Clint. He slowly approached and crouched on his other side.

Steve looked at him helplessly, hoping and praying Bruce would have a solution, but ultimately knowing that Clint wouldn't make it.

Clints breathing was becoming weaker and more laboured. He was struggling to keep his eyes open. Sweat and blood dripping from open skin and mingling with grime and ash.

“Steve…”. His eyes came up to meet Bruce's. Pain filled his expression, and Steve could see he was holding back tears. He couldn't manage any words of comfort, he just lowered his head and nodded minutely. He still held Clints hand, refusing to let go, stubbornly trying to comfort his friend in his final moments.

“Steve, please don't let him suffer any more.”. Bruce wimpered, his good hand coming up to rest on Steves back.

He sobbed. He knew that prolonging Clints end would be cruel.

He barely managed a nod. He looked at Clint, who was still trying to keep his eyes open, still struggling to breathe. He did his best to smile reassuringly.

“Its gonna be okay buddy. We'll be okay. Your gonna be okay.”. He reached forward, bringing Clint into an embrace, and bringing his arms around his friends neck, he stealed himself. “Its okay Clint.”

And before he could use his guilt and paralysing fear to stop himself, he quickly jerked his head, and snapped his neck.

All he could manage was a strangled sob of defeat, as he held his fallen friends body close.

An agent. A soldier. A friend. A brother.

Despite the grief hanging in the air, the ashes continued to fall.

-/-/-\\-\\-

He cried himself to sleep that night. And for several weeks to follow.

The funerals were held two weeks later. Tonys wasn't as big and grand as Steve would have thought when he first met him. It was small. Quiet. Peaceful.

It was at the lake house. All the Avengers were there. As well as a few others.

Pepper had offered some words. Her speech was perfect. And after, they placed a small bouquet of flowers in the water, Tony's arc reactor placed in its center, and they watched it drift away in the current.

Clint's was much the same. They held it in Iowa. Just the original remaining Avengers, and a select few who had been close to him. Like Nick, Phil, Sam, and Scott. Wanda was there, but she couldn't bear to watch the pricession, instead collapsing into a mess of tears.

Steve wanted to do the same. But he forced himself to remain strong. He came to support Laura and the kids. He had come with Bruce two days after the battle to break the news. To try and offer what comfort they could. Steve had held Lila in his arms, tried his best to offer words of comfort. He couldn't hardly remember if it was for her, or himself.

He hardly remembered the funeral. He just stood quietly, and watched as they lowered the closed coffin into the earth. They burried him behind the barn. A small, secluded area. He stayed after the burial. Everyone else had gone into the house, energy drained. He had stayed, and just stared at the ground where his friend lay. He knew there were bruises where he had broken his neck.

He remembered it clearly. The feeling of bone giving way with sharp snap of his head. He remembered feeling the bone as he cradled Clints prone form close. He remembered the tears pouring down and stinging his burning skin. He remembered Bruce gently pulling him away and into an embrace as others came to take the body away.

He never remembered crying so much in his life. And he never remembered going to bed that night.  
He was straight up exhausted. He blearily remembered Bruce taking care of him the next morning. Helping him shower, eat, and just push through the tears. Thor had been there as well. He tried his best. But he couldn't do much.

“He looked up to you”.

Steve jumped hard, immediately in defensive mode. It was Laura. She had wandered out to check on him. He heaved out a sigh, shock bleeding away.

“What do you mean?”

“He talked about you alot.” Tears were at the corners of her eyes, and solemn smile graced her lips. Steve forced a small grin return as his thoughts drifted to past memories. Memories of when they first showed up here. He remembered seeing pure joy light up Clints features when he saw Laura, and especially when the kids ran in. He hadn't ever seen that look on Clints face. He would have laughed if it weren't so shocking.

“He would always come home, with some ridiculous story about how Captain America saved the day. It would make the kids’ day.”

Steve chuckled at that. Clint Barton was never what he first seemed.

“You blame yourself for what happened to him, don't you?”

Shehad no idea. Guilt had fell over him like an uneven blanket of snow.

“He was stabbed. A spear through his stomach. And he...he just…” A sigh escaped his lips, and he dragged a hand down his face. “He was in so much pain. I couldn't watch him suffer. I...I broke his damn neck because... because there was nothing else we could do.”

Silent tears fell slowly from her face. “And I don't hate you for it. I would much rather him move on, then let him suffer before he died anyways.”

“He never deserved to die like that.”

“Perhaps. But there's nothing that can be done to change that. We just need to move on. Don't suffer for it.”

He just shook his head as he turned back to the grave. She was right and he knew it. He heard her walk up to him, and she wrapped an arm around his torso as she looked down at where her husband was layed to rest. He returned the embrace,and not a word was spoken for a very long time.

The silence was peaceful. But peace was long since coming.

Ashes still fell in his heart.

-End.


End file.
